


Let Me Sing You The Song Of My People

by Setsu (corvidqueen)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, both gabriel and samandriel are there for a hot minute, fluffy stupid singing mates AU, namely sam and joe and becky is there for .2 seconds, there are a handful of other characters mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidqueen/pseuds/Setsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where angels and humans share the planet and, up until recent history, lived segregated lives. But this story isn't about that. This story isn't even about the fire that made Lawrence, Kansas the shining beacon of all that humans and angels could achieve together. This story is about an angel who loses his voice for the human who was born to sing with him and what happens when they're reunited decades later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've totally been sitting on all 6 chapters of this story like an idiot because I THOUGHT it would post EVERYTHING, not that I had to go in to each chapter individually to post them. I apologize for all of my life choices. Please enjoy the full story at your leisure

“Are you going to the concert?”

Castiel pursed his lips but didn’t bother looking up from his book as Balthazar swept into the study in a flash of tawny wings and dark jeans. Castiel did obediently shift a wing when his brother pinched gently at its joint, the dark appendage folding up and back across the low back of the bench he’d settled on hours ago. There was a moment of charged silence as the younger angel finished his current page, licking a finger to turn before finally deigning to answer.

“If you mean that mockery of our Aria the humans pla-” he began cooly only to be interrupted by a startled flap and hands suddenly on his wrist and shoulder. He looked up sharply only to find Balthazar peering back at him, wide eyed and beaming.

“You’re going!” the elder angel announced.

Castiel sputtered, his gaping indignity nearly as comical as his brother’s bewildered delight. Swallowing, the darker haired angel drew himself up and laced his tone liberally with derision.

“What, in all the years you've known me, would make you believe that?”

“Because you haven’t so much as acknowledged a karaoke contest since -” Balthazar caught himself when Castiel immediately stiffened, snapping his book shut as his wings drew up, arching high against his back. “Well....since. You want to go to this because it’s not an Aria and no one there will notice if you sing or not.”

Castiel forced his wings to shift down into a more relaxed position though he didn’t bother re-opening his book. Instead, he carefully set it aside on the table beside the bench, and turned to face his brother more completely. He could tell Balthazar wasn’t going to let this one alone, and Castiel was certain that regardless of the outcome he’d no longer be in a reading mood.

“I’m not going Balthazar.”

“Cassie, please. You need this, I know you do. You wouldn’t even have known about it if you weren’t interested and you sure as hell wouldn’t have let me know you knew.”

“ _Balthazar_.”

“You’re going.” the blond stated again, firmly squeezing at Castiel’s wrist before letting his wing curve forward to slide the tips of his primaries gently down his brother's back.

“When do we leave?” Castiel sighed heavily in resigned irritation.

“In two hours.” Balthazar answered immediately, still smiling.

“I’m not changing out of my robes.” Castiel added as he gestured to the toga-like garment that he and many angels wore in the privacy of their homes. The light fabrics were designed to hang low, loose, and backless.

“They've always been oddly becoming on you.” The older angel shrugged, nonplussed.

“I refuse to sing.”

“No one will ask you.” This was accompanied by another squeeze and an earnestness which Castiel couldn’t help but warm to.

“I won’t enjoy myself.” he added gruffly because they both knew Balthazar had won at this point and it was an expected complaint, as was the blond's gasping retort.

“How dare anyone expect you to!”

His last reply earned a snort and the smallest and truest of all Castiel’s smiles. Balthazar beamed as he clapped his brother on the shoulder once before standing and whisking out of the study in much the same way he’d arrived. Castiel watched after him with equal parts fondness and exasperation--all of which became steadily replaced by dread as the time for departure drew nearer. It had been almost twenty full years since he’d walked amongst humans; twenty years since the fire that had stolen his voice and unified a city into something no one had ever believed it could be.

It had been a terrifying accident: a gas pipe explosion at a newly constructed human-angel integrated school. In the heat and chaos and terror, the angels - both rescuers and victims alike - had turned instinctively to song to find, to guide, and to calm. Somehow, it had been Castiel’s voice, above all others, that had carried most clearly to both humans and angels. He had flown again and again into the smoky halls to guide the trapped to safety with little regard to the pain in his lungs. He sang until something in his throat snapped, and he couldn’t so much as utter a sound. It took months for the scent of char to leave his skin and years for his voice to come back. Even after surgery, over a decade of healing, and countless therapeutic sessions, it was still a scorched and hollow thing. Castiel had accepted it as a sufficient sacrifice to avert a true tragedy. In a school of nearly a thousand, only two lives had been lost that day, both of them firefighters.

It’d been the miracle that taught humans and angels they were not so fundamentally different after all.

Most days, he was alright with that. Since his reassignment within the Department of Cultural Integrity from inter-species relations to the archives, he didn't need his voice to perform his duties. But some mornings, when the light was slanted just right and the air smelled like promise, Castiel felt the familiar swell of song building in his blood it was all he could do not to rip the house down to its foundations. On those days, Balthazar would sing long, low chants that wouldn’t tax his greatly reduced vocal range with him. From the center of their home the tones would echo back with haunting clarity and calm the ache for a little while.

Sometimes he wonders where he’d be without Balthazar.

Or where Balthazar could have and _should_ have been, without him.

He wouldn’t say it, but there were times when Castiel caught Balthazar staring wistfully at programs for the symphony. In those moments, Castiel’s mind always turned to the assortment of stringed instruments which sat in the attic, waiting for a time when his brother felt his presence was no longer needed.

“You changed, you little liar.”

Castiel started out of his reverie, turning with a smirk as his brother flapped neatly up from the foyer to the second floor landing. His wings were an admonishing rustle at his back as he moved to look Castiel over. The younger angel had opted for his oldest, and thus most comfortable pair of black jeans - now gray with age - as well as a long sleeved polo in slate blue over which he’d tugged a standard leather flight jacket.

“I’m not changing.” was all he said when Balthazar began to speak.

The older angel bit his lip and then scrunched his nose before issuing a very put upon sigh.

“Well I suppose it’ll just have to do.”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh, surprised to find some of his tension eased by the simple release. He offered his brother an appreciative smile as they walked the short distance to the french doors and out onto the balcony to take wing.


	2. Dean

The way the local news casters went on about it, one would have thought _The Brevia_ was a celebrity benefit concert and not a glorified talent show. True, the alumni association threw it together as a fundraiser for the Douglas County Integrated School’s 30th Anniversary. It was also true that the proceeds would go to new lab equipment and wing friendly sports gear, but that's not why Dean signed up. _Dean_ signed up because he had a good voice, a better face, and a healthy - more than healthy if you listened to his brother tell it- appreciation for easy hookups.    
  
"It's a social experiment, not ' _The Dating Game'_ ," Sam admonished often during their weekly phone calls leading up to the event. Dean had simply rolled his eyes before reminding him not to be late.  
  
Because it didn't matter how many times Sam tried to deny it, _The Brevia_ was basically a musical blind date.  
  
It had been twelve years since he'd walked out of the school’s doors for what he thought was last time. It was strange that it didn't look any different than he remembered. Nostalgia painted a half smile on his lips as he made his way slowly down double wide halls towards the gymnasium. He was greeted by an all too familiar face and set of golden wings when he rounded the final corner. His steps falter for a moment as he fought the instinct to turn back around and duck out of sight. It took effort to keep a reflexive frown from his face as he hefted the strap for his guitar case a little higher on his shoulder and marched right up to the table situated in front of the gym doors. He rapped his knuckles on it lightly to get the angel's attention when he didn’t look up from the papers on the table top.  
  
"Gabriel, I should have known you somehow had a hand in all of this."  
  
Gabriel Milton had been the dean of the school for the whole of his _and_ Sam's academic life at D.I. and his particular brand of discipline still gave Dean nightmares. The fact that Gabriel still looked the same as he remembered - right down to the crooked smirk he flashed when recognition dawned - made Dean feel like he'd just stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone.  
  
Friggen angels man.  
  
"Winchester! When I saw your name on the list I thought it was too good to be true. I had the rest of the committee read it to me just to be sure."  
  
"He did." Dean hadn’t noticed the wide eyed brunette sitting at the table, gaze dropping down in surprise. She offered him a knowing smile before continuing. "It's Becky. Rosen. We had Latin together until you switched for Modern Enochian."  
  
"Ah, yea, I remember now." Dean lied through his teeth, flashing his standard smile as he accepted his participants packet. The women only shook her head.  
"It's okay. I used to wear glasses but I sprung for lasik a couple years back. No one recognizes me without them I guess. I was thinking I might just put them on again for old times sake-"  
  
"Yea, wow, but you look great without them. Anyway, I think I need to head in for sound check so I'll see you later, alright?" Dean cut her off with an apologetic smile, before backing away from the table to heading to the stage.  
  
Escape made, Dean slowed down to take in the growing number of people milling about the gym. Some were helping with last minute set up, others were getting themselves ready to perform. Mini-reunions were taking place everywhere, the gym full with the sounds of laughter, pleased shouts, and enthusiastic conversation. Dean spotted a few familiar faces, but his real friends wouldn't arrive till much later as audience members. That’s he found himself alone, backstage, tuning his guitar and smoothing out the three songs he'd selected for his allotted ten minutes. He didn't notice the growing number of people backstage until he heard someone shouting his name from across the room. Startled, Dean was on his feet by the time he caught sight of a kid who barely looked a day over 19 even though Dean knew for a fact they were nearly the same age.  
  
"Salamander! You haven't aged a day, you little bastard!" Dean beamed. He set his guitar down on his chair before sweeping the angel into a hug. Dean easily accepted the mottled gray wings that stretched forward to embrace him in return.  
  
"I still don't find that nickname funny." Samandriel answered dryly as they separated, but his smile wasn't any less warm. "How have you been Dean?"  
  
Dean motioned for the angel to bring one of the angelbacked chairs over before turning to pack his guitar away and rest the case against the wall. Once it was out of the way, he sat down himself, waiting for Samandriel to get comfortable before launching into his life after D.I. High. Dean began the conversation with how he’d started off studying mechanics and engineering at a trade school and had liked it well enough. Then, how he’d taken an elective wood shop one semester and discovered the joy of creating useful things rather than just fixing them. From there it hadn't been a far leap into construction. Dean had carved something of a niche for himself designing, building, and remodeling homes to be fit for angel and human cohabitation. Given the growing number of inter-species marriages, it was a much needed expertise and he was even beginning to make a name for himself outside of just Kansas. He also told Samandriel how Sam worked for a firm in DC after graduating from Columbia because he’d decided he needed to be “closer to where the laws he was trained to uphold were made”, whatever that meant.  
  
From there, they moved on to how Samandriel had landed a position as a flight teacher at a cousin's fledgling daycare with his sister, Hadriel, and was the substitute music teacher at several local integrated schools.  
  
"It's nothing glamorous but it pays the bills and I get summers off to travel. I'm thinking of writing a book." He'd finished with a shrug and the same eager smile Dean remembered from days in the library going over history notes or brushing up on his enochian.  
  
"So, there’s no Mrs.Salamander to swoon over you tonight?" Dean asks after a beat of comfortable silence. Samandriel shook his head with a somewhat chagrined laugh.  
  
"I almost attended a proper Aria once but chickened out at the door." He admitted with a flush as Dean barked out a laugh. Wings fluffing out behind him in embarrassment, Samandriel leaned forward to smack Dean on the arm good naturedly before continuing. "I thought I'd give this a try as...well, a test run. No one's really expecting anything here but some relatively good entertainment and I think I can deliver at least that much."  
  
"I dunno, I was hoping for some phone numbers myself."  
  
"I see you haven't changed one bit." Samandriel snorted in admiration and admonishment.  
"Why mess with perfection?" Dean quipped. His grin widened as his friend drew himself up with what was sure to be a cutting retort but he never got to deliver it.  
  
Gabriel had chosen that moment to come sweeping into the back room, clapping his hands and shaking out his wings to get everyone's attention. Once silence had fallen, he clasped his hands in front of him and waggled his eyebrows.  
  
"Alright kids, it's _showtime_."  



	3. Castiel

They arrived during the 4th act, and slipped in largely unnoticed to catch the majority of the show. The restless flutter of his brother's wings as he ushered them into the building led him to believe it was more by accident than design, but Castiel promised himself he would do something especially kind for Balthazar in the coming days regardless. The school itself had changed since the last time he'd seen it. The damaged had been repaired and a new wing for fledglings had been added. Proper landings on the rooftops had also been made and he was pretty sure he saw a Quidditch Pitch out past the football and baseball fields. Quidditch was one of few games humans and angels had taken to with the same religious fervor. 

It helped that J.K. had based her invented game on one angels had been playing since time before time. 

"You've become something of the patron saint of the school. From what I recall, they named their sports teams 'The Blackwings’ after you," Balthazar stated when he noticed his brother's curious gaze, his smile soft and fond as they walked the halls. "They even have an award for selflessness and devotion to one’s community called 'the guardian angel'. Only three people have ever earned it." 

Castiel said nothing in return, only nodding thoughtfully and that was enough for Balthazar to launch enthusiastically into what few stories he knew of about the school's history since the fire. He only fell silent when they paid the entry fee to a somewhat spacey brunette who spent the entire exchange staring open mouthed at Castiel. Balthazar’s lips curled into an amused smirk. 

"I think you've been made." Balthazar teased once they'd rounded the corner and started down the short hall to where the gym doors had been propped open. A duet, accompanied by a keyboard and a violin, were giving a rendition of a pop song over the low thrum of chatter by the tables which lined the walls. 

There were streamers and banners and strings of multicolored lights crisscrossing the rafters. The tables had snacks and drinks, flyers and sign ups for other associations, along with t-shirts and other various merchandise. There was an air of festive warmth that seemed to embrace them both at the door and it sent a shiver running through Castiel's feathers. He was smiling before he realized it. The hollow ache that usually echoed between his ribs every time he so much as thought of attending a concert - any concert - was replaced by a familiar calm. If anything, it was Balthazar who looked like he was suffering, eyes wide and expression painfully open as he stared at his brother in the half light. Castiel flashed him a broader, warmer smile. 

"You were right Balthazar. I needed this." 

The admission dragged a soft keening noise from the back of Balthazar's throat and for a moment Castiel panicked. His expression crumbled with the certainty that he'd said too much - that he'd _ruined_ _it_ , but before he could say anything there were arms slipping through both of theirs as someone inserted themselves into the space between them. Castiel found himself both annoyed and relieved when a gold wing folded over their shoulders in turn, drawing them in like a mother collecting her chicks. 

"Castiel, as I live and breathe." Gabriel said softly as he smirked up at the younger angel. "I didn't think Ol' Balthy would be able to convince you to come. Looks like I owe him a steak dinner in Belarus after all." Beneath the archangel's customary snark lay genuine delight. 

"You'd go to Belarus just for steak?" Castiel asked, brows furrowed as he tipped his head back to peer at his brother over the top of Gabriel's head. It was more to assess his emotional state than anything else. The archangel let his wings drop though he didn't relinquish his grip on their arms. 

"You'd be surprised how far a man would go for a good rib eye," Balthazar answered seriously, and though the smile he flashed Castiel’s way was weak, it was still genuine. 

Either way, it was enough to ease the tension between Castiel's shoulder blades. As if sensing as much himself, Gabriel began to half lead, half drag the pair forward towards a small cluster of unoccupied angelback seats, chatting softly the entire way. 

"Becky may or may not ask you to sign her copy of Sky's Promise. Cassiel was based mostly on you after all. In fact, half the people in this room probably owe their lives directly to you Cassie-bear. You're in for some long over due hero worship if you play your cards right. I'd ask you to sing b-" 

"That's not why I came." Castiel hissed as he tugged his arm free, shooting the shorter angel an affronted and frankly alarmed look. Balthazar curled his arm so that Gabriel's hand came to rest in the crook of his elbow. 

"Behave or I might never get him out of the house again." Balthazar admonished. He patted at the archangel's hand and if the edge in Balthazar's tone was more " _promise of pain_ " than " _playful scolding_ ", Gabriel pretended not to notice as he squeezed the taller man's arm before letting go. 

"Yes, yes, yes. Ruin all my fun why don't you. Well, you two enjoy yourselves, make sure to grab a shirt on your way out and honestly, Castiel, it's good to see you here." 

Castiel watched as Gabriel moved on to accost a new group of attendees. He couldn't help but remember back to a dozen other events just like this one where the energetic man had simply assumed the mantle of host regardless of whether he actually was or not. It was his nature to be in the thick of things, for better or worse. 

"We can leave before the final act to avoid the crowd, if you want," Balthazar offered softly as they settled. 

Castiel frowned, studying the other angel for a moment before glancing across to the other audience members. They were seated in loosely constructed rows as allowances for winged friends were made. It was perfectly logical that there would be alumni in attendance who had been there and would remember him. For the first few years during his recovery, "get well soon" and "thank you" cards and letters had inundated the department offices. They’d eventually dwindled down to just a handful each year, and Castiel had been grateful. He didn't know that he could face that kind of well intentioned adoration. His fingers twitched together in his lap as he turned back to Balthazar. 

"If you wouldn't mind..." 

"Not at all Cassie. Consider it done." 

They sat through three acts in relative silence, commenting softly on particularly impressing displays of skill (Castiel) or making disparaging comments about musical taste (Balthazar) or lack of fashion sense (Balthazar again). Then a lone man with a guitar, a confident but shy smirk, and eyes the color of new spring growth stepped on stage. Castiel felt his blood run cold, sitting up so stiffly that the curved chair back no longer rested comfortably against his spine. Balthazar was reaching for him immediately, fingers tentative on his wrist. 

"Cassie? Castiel, are you alright?" 

The blond's concerned voice seemed to come from miles away. Castiel was unable to turn his eyes from the stage because he was suddenly _back there_ , in a smoke choked library where he’d first seen those same green eyes. Those were the same eyes that had looked up at him so full of pain, terror and determination it'd made his heart stop. The green eyed child had had his semi-conscious brother in his trembling arms and a blond girl clinging weakly to his shirt sleeve. Castiel had thought nothing of gathering the two smaller ones up into his arms and tucking the green eyed boy in securely at his side. Castiel had then folded his wings forward to filter the worst of the smoke. They'd exited the building singing the only song they'd had in common between them - a simple nursery rhyme about cats. But it had calmed them and kept them conscious and that's all that had mattered at the time. It wasn't until after he'd relinquished them all to the paramedics that his voice finally gave out on him, and he couldn't even wish the brave boy well and tell him he'd done his parents proud. The only assurance he could give him was to lean forward and rest their foreheads together gently before turning away to be attended to himself. 

He'd never been sure what had passed between them in that moment and now he cursed himself for letting it slip so easily from his memory. He had only himself to blame for being so blindsided. 

"Hey y'all, the name’s Dean. Class of '01. I'm gonna sing ya' some tunes. This first one's a classic so I expect you all to sing along!" The man on stage announced to sudden and rowdy applause from a small but clearly loyal contingent of friends. 

" _Castiel_ ," Balthazar tried again, tightening his grip until his brother turned wide and distracted eyes his way. 

"It's him." was all Castiel could manage because then Dean was singing and Castiel didn't have the breath to speak. 

Sometime during the second song their eyes met. Castiel felt his heart stutter before leaping into his throat…and then plummeting like a rock into the pit of his stomach when the man stumbled over his words and went silent, mouth working soundlessly. 

"It's you..." Dean breathed into the mic and already heads were beginning to turn, trying to spot who in the crowd had caught his attention. Castiel drew in a sharp, frightened breath as he turned to Balthazar, wings half spread behind him in reflex, ready to take flight. Before he could even get his brain to form the words he needed to tell Balthazar they needed to _leave_ , Dean was clearing his throat and laughing embarrassedly into the mic. 

"Sorry about that folks, I just realized who stole my calculus book during my sophomore year. Talk about delayed reactions right?" he said with a self deprecating smile as the crowd laughed. His fingers worked briefly over the cords of his guitar before he seemed to remember where he’d left off. 

"We'll leave after his set when no one is looking and then you're going to tell me _exactly_ what the hell is going on." Balthazar hissed and Castiel only nodded, not even bothering to tug his wrist from his brother's loosening grip. He was thankful for the grounding pressure against skin. 

"And for my last song, I was gonna give you Rock You Like A Hurricane for obvious reason." Dean began with a wink, garnering a few cat calls before he continued on. "But I changed my mind. Wanna close out with a little Zeppelin, this is Ramble On." 

Castiel’d meant to tell Balthazar they could go now - that no one was looking. In truth, he was surprised that Dean had realized and caught the crowd’s attention back before he could truly panic. But before he could utter a word, green eyes were suddenly locked on his and he couldn't so much as twitch in his seat. Balthazar was sighing beside him anyway, expression somewhere between despairing and amused as he slowly cottoned on. 

"Oh Cassie, of all the times and places to find them." 

If he'd had the brain power for it, Castiel would have agreed.


	4. Dean

"Alright Winchester, you're up in five!" 

"Break a leg." Samandriel smiled and punched Dean lightly in the arm before stepping back to let the man climb the short flight of stairs to the stage. 

It was only his fourth time on a stage for something that wasn't a graduation and he was glad for the familiar weight of his guitar in his hands: it kept them from shaking. 

He flexed his fingers against the neck as he waited just behind the curtains for the last act to clear their equipment off the stage. He took a deep breath before putting on his showman's smile and stepping out to the mic. 

"Hey y'all, the name’s Dean. Class of '01. I'm gonna sing ya' some tunes. This first one’s a classic so I expect you all to sing along, got it?" 

There was some cheer from the sea of faces just beyond the stage lights and a few wolf whistles that - had he not known for a fact that his friend Jo was at home with a sick nephew and her own two little girls - he would have called her out as the perpetrator. It only took the opening chord progression for most people to clue into what song he was singing and while he was pleased, he couldn't say he was surprised: Sweet Child Of Mine was easily top ten on the list of "most recognizable openings." 

He was, however, startled when over half the crowed crooned out the chorus with him. He flashed an encouraging smile as he tried not to laugh out his delight in the middle of the next verse. It was as the crowd was echoing back the ' _where do we go_ 's that he felt it; an itch at the base of his skull, underneath the skin and the heavy weight of watching eyes. Startled, he started to comb the crowd more seriously. His grin broadened when he spotted Sam and his girlfriend, Jessica, amongst a sea of familiar faces. It seemed like every friend he'd ever made had shown up tonight and it warmed something in him. Even so, the itch didn't abate. If anything it intensified to the point that it felt like a low grade burn across the back of his neck. 

Of course, it made no sense. 

He was singing, on stage, rocking it even from the way the audience was responding. There were no less than two dozen eyes on him so why he could  feel this _one_ set so keenly was beyond him. Where were they sitting and who were they? They had to be close. His green eyes combed the front rows as he played out the closing notes of Sweet Child of Mine. 

"Alright, alright, that was.....respectable. But I know you can all do better, let’s try this one on for size." 

Dean launched into Nothing Else Matters without preamble, trying not to be distracted by the way his eyes kept wanting to slide to the left and further back towards the empty seats.  

Brows knitting together, he chanced a glance back and it felt almost like the stage simply dropped away beneath his feet because he was suddenly _back there_. 

In his mind, the fire alarms went off and the building shook and the smoke was hard and thick. He ignored his teacher's instructions and took off for the library because he knew his brother's schedule almost better than his own and he didn't trust anyone to protect his Sammy: Not the way he could. 

He barely registered the second explosion, the ensuing panic, or the singing as what had been tentative order descended into absolute chaos. He was single minded in his need to get to the library. He found Sam there, as expected, the then eight year old asthmatic wheezing and clutching the hand of a girl who was clearly terrified. Dean was terrified himself because one look was all he needed to know that Sam's inhaler was a million miles away and the smoke in the hall might just kill him.  He _had to_ get them out. 

And then the angel appeared. 

"It's you," he said softly because he knew those eyes - would know those eyes anywhere, had seen them in his dreams for years after. 

The panic that suddenly flooded them made Dean's heart clench. Suddenly, he was back on stage and everyone was staring and murmuring and stammering through his song.  Dean’s angel was going to run if he didn't get this show back on the road. 

He barked out a strained laugh, strumming out a few short notes. 

"Sorry about that folks, I just realized who stole my calculus book during my sophomore year. Talk about delayed reactions right?" 

It didn't take much to get back on track, but he couldn't help glancing over every now and then to make sure his angel was still there. He took note of the sandy winged blond beside him. 

A friend? A relative? 

While he would never admit to it, he had spent several of his teen age years finding out everything he could about Castiel. He vaguely remembered he had a brother and a sister but no mate to speak of which meant Dean had a chance, not that he ever thought to act on it, until now. Because Castiel was _here_ and he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by. It might be his only one. 

"And for my last song, I was gonna give you _Rock You Like A Hurricane_ for obvious reasons." Dean began with a wink, garnering a few cat calls before he continued on. "But I changed my mind. Wanna close out with a little Zeppelin, this is _Ramble On_." 

He didn't even hesitate this time as he turned his eyes back, catching his angel's gaze and holding it. So what if this wasn't the most romantic song? So what if he wasn't even sure there was anything to this... _thing_ , he felt? So what if he had no idea why this was so important? All he knew was in this moment, it was the song that needed to be sung and from the way Castiel stared back at him, he felt like the angel got the point. At the last minute he changed "bluebird" to "blackbird", but from the way his angel's eyes narrowed and then widened he was sure he'd made the right choice. Dean was sure Cas wouldn't wait around for the rest of the acts to finish before taking off, blond companion in tow. That meant he needed to be off stage and hunting him down asap. He barely acknowledged the calls for an encore, smiling and bowing himself as casually off stage as he could manage. He bolted down the steps the moment he was out of sight of the crowd. He nearly took out the next act in his haste and called out a distracted apology as he burst through the backstage doors. He found Samandriel waiting for him with his guitar case and an amused but concerned expression. 

"What happened out there?" 

"He's _here_ ,Samandriel. _Castiel is here_ ," Dean hissed out as he shoved his guitar into the case with a whisper of apology before slamming the lid shut hard enough for the locks to click shut on their own. "I have to catch him before he leaves." 

He didn't even bother going through the gym. They wouldn't be there and he'd get hung up trying not get hung up. He opted instead to take the exit that emptied out directly into the hall. He picked up an anxious jog towards the admissions table but he didn't even need to ask Becky if she'd seen two angel's leaving. He could see them walking down the hall still, heads bent together and wings brushing. 

"Wait!"

Castiel jerked visibly as he stopped. His wings flared reflexively before just as firmly being marshaled back into control. The blond half turned, his expression pinched and serious as he whispered something furiously in the other angel's ear only to be shaken off as Dean continued to draw closer.

"Wait! Just - wait!" Dean called again and they finally turned fully, the blond sliding forward as he raised a protective wing, half shielding Castiel from view. 

It made Dean's heart do funny things in his chest, his expression clouding. 

"Look, I don't want to cause any trouble it's just....you're the voiceless angel, the one from....I know it's you because there's no way I'd forget. You saved my life - and Sammy's, and Jo's, and you couldn't even say good-bye at the end and I think I've been in love with you my whole life. I know it doesn't make sense. I thought it was just some stupid kid crush, misplaced hero worship or whatever the shrinks call it. I always thought I just wanted to say thank you to your face but seeing you again now...nothing's changed." Dean finished with a shrug. He was slightly breathless and felt ridiculous, but also like he'd just lifted twenty pounds off his chest for the first time in eighteen years. "So yea. That's uh...that's all I had to say. Uh, thanks for sticking around to hear me sing and..just..thanks. Uh...for everything." 

They stood in silence for a moment. Dean's grip on his guitar case  tightened as he tried not to shuffle his feet, unable to look either Castiel or the blond in the face. 

"That was quite possibly the **worst** proposal I've ever heard - and I was _there_ when Uriel proposed to Anna."

Dean looked up at that, startled even as Castiel shot the blond beside him a quelling look before turning back to Dean. 

"I'm hardly voiceless, Dean."

He couldn't help the smile which lit his face or the zing that went racing down his spine to hear Castiel finally, _finally_ say his name. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed to hear it until the syllable was escaping those wind parched lips. There were a lot of things Dean apparently needed from Castiel that he hadn't realized until that moment. He swallowed hard, his skin heating and his breath hitching in his chest when the dark haired angel did something with his wings that made him both terrifying and gorgeous at the same time. 

"Castiel, this is hardly the time or place. Either invite the beautiful man home with us or get his number." the blond chided and Castiel flushed slightly before nodding. 

"There..is much we need to discuss. This is as strange for you as it is for me, I assure you Dean. It's not supposed to happen this way, but if you would-"

"Just give me your address Cas, I'll meet you there."

"I'll do you one better - Castiel, you fly on ahead, put the kettle on, tidy up a bit and we'll make a proper night of it. I will drive with Dean, make sure he arrives in one piece." the blond grinned and both men turned skeptical glances his way. 

"Balthazar."

"It'll be fine, I promise." Balthazar, who Dean now recognized as Castiel's older brother, replied soothingly, already pushing Castiel further down the hall. "We'll see you soon, I won’t let him come to harm." 

Castiel bit his lip and, when he caught the way Dean's eyes zeroed in on the movement, did it again. He flushed in pleasure even as Balthazar made an aggrieved noise in the back of his throat. Castile flushed deeper at that, embarrassed as he nodded his agreement, and turned to stalk with purpose down the hallway. Dean watched after his retreating form until he couldn't even pretend to hear the gentle swish of his feathers. When he looked up, Balthazar was smirking at him but his amusement was a paper thin cover for the roil of emotions just below the surface. Dean swallowed, and then squared his shoulders and nodded the angel out towards the parking lot. 

It was going to be a rough ride, but he was a Winchester. It was kind of par for the course.


	5. Dean

The walk to the car was made in strained silence - strained mostly on Dean's part because every side glance he cast Balthazar's way was met with the same bemused grin and not so incidental shift of a wing. It was the angelic version of a " _Yes, and_?" and while Dean was no stranger to sass - winged or otherwise - it did nothing to sooth the contractor's quickly fraying nerves. It was a struggle to keep his frown from turning into an all out scowl as they navigated the parking lot. Balthazar dropped back to walk just behind him so they wouldn't have to crowd too close to pass through the narrow aisles. The gentle rustle and sway of the angel's wings seemed to only get louder as a result and Dean found himself hyper aware of the man walking just behind his elbow. It made his jaw clench and his free hand curl reflexively into a fist as he shoved it deeper into his jacket pocket, the bite of keys against his knuckles oddly grounding as he led Balthazar towards the back half of the lot where he'd parked. A bit out of the way, yes, but that meant fewer people willing to make the walk to and from the school and thus fewer chances for his baby to come to harm.It also meant plenty of time for Dean to try and wrangle his thoughts into something nearing coherence. Dean finally huffed out a breath as the sleek black curve of the impala's trunk came into view.

"Look, not that I don't appreciate the offer, but have you ever even _ridden_ in a car before?" Dean asked as he turned to glance at Balthazar over his shoulder, brows furrowed.

It was no where near the questions he wanted to be asking but it served as a more than decent first volley to test out the waters. The blond's return smirk as he blithely replied "Nope!" made it clear he knew exactly what Dean was doing and he had no intentions of indulging him in his pussy footing around the reason they were even keeping company. Dean, however, was sufficiently derailed. He stopped dead as he spun to face the other angel completely. He just barely missed taking out someone's side view mirror with his guitar case, cringing internally even as he gaped at the angel who only stared back with the same half smirk.

"What do you mean ' _ **nope**_ '? How do you know you won’t freak out!?"

Balthazar only gave a noncommittal shrug and gestured for Dean to continue forward.

"We'll find out together in a moment. I can't say learning how to handle being caged was ever high on my list of priorities. Finding out what your intentions are for my brother is a different story. You'll have to forgive me if I found it hard to parse out your meaning during that little bout of verbal diarrhea you had in the hallway there but I can assure you, Dean, that if I don't think you're going to be good for him, I have no qualms making sure you never meet again, bonded or not."

" _Bond_ \- **_BOND_ ** \- who the hell ever - we aren't -" Dean couldn't even get a full sentence out, green eyes wide as he felt his heart lurch heavily in his chest.

What had already been a weird situation was quickly spiraling out of the realm of believability and into bizarro land. Dean unfolded his hand to fish his keys out of his pocket, turning again to stalk the last few feet to his car. Balthazar remained where he'd stopped and watched almost impassively as Dean yanked open the trunk of his car, threw his guitar in, and then slammed the lid shut again. The younger man stood that way for a long moment, breaths coming hard and shoulders hunched as he fought down his panic and confusion and unwillingness to even acknowledge the truth he could feel thrumming in his core: the truth that he had never had a word for it until now. Balthazar waited for Dean's breathing to even out before he stepped in close again. He slid easily back into the space at Dean's elbow though the other man doesn't turn-- his green eyes focused on the black metal beneath his clenched fists.

"It's common for there to be decades separating bonded pairs, and while rare, a bond forming between an adult and a child is not altogether unheard of. We do, however, prefer for our young to grow into themselves without the weight of a bond to shape themselves around. That’s why only bonded pairs are allowed to give vocal lessons to children." Balthazar explained almost gently, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Dean hesitated. His nostrils flared as he opened and shut his mouth five times in quick succession. Balthazar rolled his eyes as he reads the question the man means to ask in the lines of his mouth and the way his eyes search the space between his slowly unfolding hands.

"All it takes is one song to know."

Dean straightened at that, meeting Balthazar's gaze with something between terror and awe. It made Balthazar's blood boil, feathers flaring as he draws up straight.

"Tonight is the first time since the fire that I have seen even a hint of the brother I knew and I would be remiss if I didn't think it might have something to do with the proximity of his bonded after so long. It is no coincidence that he chose this event after years of refusing all invitations, that he knew somehow that you would be here, that it was instinct that brought him to you. But make no mistake, he is a broken thing. So you listen to me Dean Winchester, and you listen to me well -you have to decide, **now** , before I bring you to him, what you mean to do."

"Wait just a fucking minute, this is - you can't just-" Dean spluttered, incensed as he turned to face the angel only to have the blond push right into his space. Balthazar’s tawny wings were half spread and his eyes glinted steel blue in the dim light.

" _He gave his voice for you_." Balthazar hissed, and he was satisfied to see Dean flinch, to know the other man understood the gravity of his words. "You owe him a full commitment either one way or the other. Make your choice."

Dean swallowed.

And remembered how every real date he has ever been on had been at the behest of friends and surrogate family because deep down he'd known he'd already found what he was looking for.

Of how, even now, he dreamed of blue eyes, a smoke roughened voice, and dark feathers folding warm and safe over his shoulders.

How his entire body had thrummed with pleasure to hear Castiel say his name.

How he could now admit to having been ruined for anyone else that day when a black winged angel had saved his brother.

"I'm in." Dean finally answered softly. His hands fell loosely to his sides as he met Balthazar's gaze. "Whatever this is, whatever I am to him, I want it."

Balthazar didn't immediately lean back but studied Dean's face before finally smiling and reaching to clap him on the shoulder.

"Wonderful! Welcome to the family. Now lets shake a leg, won’t do to keep your blushing bride waiting forever will it?"

Dean snorted. His lips quirked up into a smirk despite himself.

"Just don't puke in my car."

Balthazar only smiled more broadly.


	6. Castiel

**_Mated_**.

Castiel was _mated_. He had been for almost a full on decade now and he'd never known. No one had. Even given the chaos of that day and the trauma of the months and years that followed, there should have been a sign. There should have been some kind of bond, no matter how tenuous, some kind of awareness, there should have been something - anything.

_How could he not have known?_

It had taken backbreaking will, time, and the unconditional love and vigilance of his siblings to sooth the heartache that had so often turned to all encompassing rage; to resign himself to a songless life, to give up the dreams of a house full of laughter and voices raised in loving harmony, to accept his new lot in life and find joy where he could.

Well, he was feeling something now. His lungs were clenched tight and his heart was beating heavily in his chest as he sank down to the polished tile of his kitchen floor, surprise registering in the back of his mind that he was home. He didn't remember much of anything past stepping onto the roof of the school and then taking to the air where his emotions - the enormity of what had happened - finally caught up to him.

Castiel had a mate.

And he was not ready.

He pulls his wings in around him and drops his face into his hands as he tries to breath through the terror and the panic and the suffocating burn of a hope he knew he wouldn't survive should Dean prove false in his intentions. He doesn't know how long he sits there, curled up in the safety of his own wings, but the sound of the kettle coming to a boil is enough to startled him out of his trance. Her jerked upright as he folded his wings back - to reveal concerned green eyes and an anxious but pleased smile.

"There you are. I'm almost disappointed you're still an angel and not a butterfly." Dean teases gently from where he's settled, cross legged and clearly settled in, elbows resting lightly on his bent knees and eyebrows lifting when Castiel only stares wordlessly back.

"Now that is something I would pay to see - our dear Cassie with a set of garishly colored wings."

Balthazar's voice draws the younger angel's startled gaze to the stove - and then to the kitchen in general which looked like it'd been hit by a very localized windstorm. There were mugs on almost every surface, pots and pans on the floor, sugar spilled on half the counter, a puddle of milk by the fridge door.

"The rest of the house is more of the same I'm afraid. I didn't think we'd be long enough to let you get into such a tizzy. I'm sorry little brother, I really shouldn't have let you flit off by yourself like that." Balthazar continues with a grimace as he slips the top of the teapot back on to brew - chai and caramel from the scent - his gaze sincere in both its affection and apology when he glances over his shoulder. "Nothing we can't set to rights later. Right now, we have more important things to attend to. Or, at least, you two lovebirds do, I'm just here to provide refreshments."

Balthazar turns his eyes pointedly to Castiel's left but Castiel can't bring himself to follow the gaze, stiffening as his dark wings flare at his back. He doesn't know what scares him more - the idea that Dean won’t be there if he does or that he will be. Warm fingers curl gently around his wrist and he jerks, spinning to face Dean with wide, wondering eyes at the soft zing of recognition the touch elicits, his body reacting in welcome to the touch of its mate. Castiel didn't think his eyes could go any wider. His heart was in his throat as he stares at the hand holding him, eyes slowly traveling the length of an arm and the breadth of a shoulder to Dean's face. Something in the other man's expression changes - surprise and pleasure beneath the concern as he grips tighter; a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't really mind talking here, on the floor, in your kitchen, if that's what you want."

It's not a question, but it's not a statement either. Castiel frowned as he gave himself a single, full body shake before taking a deep, steadying breath.

"No. The den would be more comfortable for us both."

His voice is so weak he isn't sure the other man will understand him but Dean is nodding before he can find the strength to repeat himself. Dean pushed to his feet and hauled Castiel up with him. It's a surprising strength and Castiel found himself blinking ever so slightly up at the taller man, dumbfounded. But then Balthazar cleared his throat and when Castiel turns, he had a tray of mugs, sugar, and warmed milk ready for handing over.

"I'll be along with the rest." he said and waved the pair off with a gentle, encouraging smile.

Castiel leads the way in distracted silence as he takes stock of the disaster he's made of the house. There are decor pillows on the stairs; an overturned plant on the second floor balcony and accompanying pile of dirt on the first floor walkway; a trench coat hanging from a light fixture. The den is thankfully still intact, more or less, although Dean does have to right the coffee table before he can set the tray down. They settle in on opposite ends of the couch, both out of necessity for Castiel's wings and because the angel finds himself actively fighting the urge to flee whenever Dean seems to want to touch him or draw nearer. He can't abide his touch right now - can't handle the promise of it, can't even begin to process the feelings slowly leaking to the surface from the dark, dark place he'd hidden them: stomped and locked down and thrown away the key.

"Cas." Dean says it softly, waits for the angel's blue eyes to meet his own before smiling, reaching out again to brush his fingertips against the very edges of his primary feathers and even that touch is almost too much. "Hey, it's alright. Everything is alright, just...slowly. Breathe more slowly. We have all night just to talk."

"I apologize." the angel blurted, the swallowed past the lump in his throat before trying again. "The house is usually not like this. I...am not usually like this. It's all very - you have to understand what it meant to me, realizing I could no longer sing, not as I was accustomed to - not as all angels are meant to. It was like.....being made a crow and having to live amongst bluebirds. I gave up on....I was prepared to be alone. I had accepted it, come to peace with it. And now you're here."

Dean risks moving closer though he doesn't move to touch again. His expression was earnest as he catches his mate's eyes again and holds them.

"I meant it Castiel. About being in love with you. And I'm sorry you were alone so long - I mean, I was just a kid, no one expects to find their soul mate when they're ten, but I found you and I think I knew, somewhere because all through high school and college there wasn't - I mean, I wasn't celibate, not by a long shot, but I never wanted to...to keep. Anyone. And then I saw you and I just...knew."

Castiel can feel him - the hope, the adoration, the energy and the light of him, filling in all those sore and empty places, soothing hurts he'd become so accustomed to he'd forgotten about them. He's shaking with it, tears rising unbidden to his eyes and he doesn't pull away when Dean eases into his space. Instead, he folds a wing around him, draws him close and marvels at the shiver of delight that goes through his mate - his mate - at the simple touch. He melts into Dean as much as the younger man melts into him.

Neither of them are fooled into thinking it would be this easy, but those were bridges they would either cross or build when they came to them. For now, they were content to simply be _together_.


End file.
